What is it with our attachment to things? 

I spent most of Sunday afternoon sorting through the last thirty years of my music career contained in boxes, books and a bookshelf in our basement. Guitar flat picking books, Neil Young, Bruce Cockburn and Jim Croce songbooks and (maybe) a rare collection of the late Canadian East Coast, via Hamilton, singer songwriter Stan Rogers' music. There's that attachment thing - thinking that it might be "rare and valuable". 

As an aside, I also found a dozen Titleist Pro V1 golf balls that are now in my golf bag and will give me some joy, and possibly a measure of frustration, in the new year.  At least with golf balls, when I lose them they will hopefully provide some future joy to whoever finds them. 

How little do we really need? What if you had ten minutes to grab what was important to you? What would you take? I'd probably grab my guitar but in reality could get by with a harmonica or maybe just my voice.

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